


Learning Curves

by IreneADonovan



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Canon Disabled Character, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Chess, Cock Rings, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Sweetheart, Erik is crushing harder than a 12 year old girl, Family Feels, Family Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nipple Play, Rain, Top Charles Xavier, chess as foreplay, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:36:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: Charles becomes tutor to single dad Erik's three kids, but sparks fly between him and Erik from the start. One rainy night they give in to their desires...Now with additional art.





	Learning Curves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flightinflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/gifts), [Ireliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireliss/gifts), [librata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librata/gifts).

> This is my enrty for the X-Men Big Bang. Unfortunately, the artist I was paired with has dropped out, but three wonderful people I know all offered to make something for me. [Ireliss](https://archiveofour), [flightinflame](https://archiveofour), and [librata](https://archiveofour), thank you ever so much for your generosity!
> 
> All of the art in now up!

Charles Xavier studied the property before him before making any move to exit his car. Forbidding steel wall -- no great surprise, as Erik Lehnsherr's gift included metal manipulation -- at least six feet high, with a metal gate, perhaps a foot shorter. Three wide stone steps leading up to the gate.

Steps. Inconvenient. Annoying. Unsurprising. But hardly insurmountable. He opened his door, pulled his chair from the back seat, then himself into it. He went to the rear of the car, opened the trunk, removed a pair of long metal strips shaped like squared-off u's, portable ramps, one for each wheel 

Even collapsed, they were a bit unwieldy, three feet long, though neither weighed much over five pounds. Again, inconvenient but not insurmountable.

He was adjusting the first, extending the telescoping slat, when a warm baritone asked, “Do you need a hand?”

“No,” Charles snapped, lifting his head, intending to glare at the voice's owner.

And stopped dead. The head poking over the top of the gate was just unfairly handsome. Auburn hair blazing in the sunlight, shot through with golden highlights, just long enough to curl madly. Eyes of a pale and indeterminate color, a striking blend of blue and grey and green, lit softly with amusement. Strong jaw dusted with a ginger scruff a few shades brighter than the hair atop his head. Wide, pink-lipped mouth, one corner quirked upward.

After an eternal moment, Charles tore his gaze away and bent over, setting the first ramp in place. Now that he had an audience, he hoped even harder than usual that he wouldn’t overbalance and topple from his chair.

Lehnsherr spoke quietly. “I could have you up here far more quickly and efficiently.” He used his powers to tug gently at the second ramp.

“No, thank you,” Charles said, hiding his anger behind politeness. “I assure you I can do it.”

“I never said you couldn't,” Lehnsherr said mildly, “only that it would be quicker. Besides, you won't be getting in without my cooperation -- the gate's locked.”

Unfortunately, that did put a different spin on matters. “Fine,” he muttered.

And then he was flying. He yelped in surprise, hands wrapping tightly around the wheelchair's frame, then he laughed. Lehnsherr stepped back, the gate swung open, and Charles floated inside to land on a neat green lawn.

“That was bloody amazing.”

Lehnsherr grinned, a very toothy grin. “Glad you enjoyed it, Professor. Welcome to my home. Come meet my children.”

Of course there were more steps leading into the house. Lehnsherr lifted him over them without a word; it really was a thrilling sensation.

“Would you like me to put those ramps back in your trunk?”

“That would be lovely,” Charles said, them watched as the ramps lifted into the air and sailed out of sight. He heard the trunk lid slam.

“Done,” Lehnsherr said as the gate clanged closed. “Follow me.”

Lehnsherr led the way across the wide porch and into the house. His initial impression was orderly-but-lived-in -- neat, clean, but with undeniable evidence that children lived there.

“We can talk in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Charles said hurriedly, suppressing a shudder.

Lehnsherr glanced over his shoulder. “I take it you're not a fan.”

“I'm afraid not.”

“My wife was the same way.” Charles felt the quick stab of pain, remembered Lehnsherr was a widower. “Would you prefer tea?”

“Please.” He followed Lehnsherr into the kitchen, smiled anew when the man used his powers to whisk one of the kitchen chairs out of the way.

Charles wheeled up to the table, watched as Erik filled two mugs, one with water, one with cold coffee, and popped them into the microwave. “What kind of tea would you like? I've got everything from chamomile to plain black to Earl Grey.”

“Earl Grey, please.”

Erik took a tea bag from a drawer, placed it on the counter, then bellowed, “Wanda, Pietro, Lorna, come to the kitchen for a minute.”

Even before he'd finished speaking, a greyish blur streaked across the kitchen, coming to a stop beside the table. A slender boy with silver-blond hair and in a silver jacket eyed Charles with curious brown eyes. Pietro, aged ten, who had the gift of speed.

The girls arrived at a more normal pace. Wanda, Pietro's twin, with russet hair and a wary look in her grey eyes. Her powers were nebulous and poorly-controlled. And Lorna, aged seven, with emerald-green hair and eyes and her father's magnetic gifts.

“Children, I'd like you to meet Charles.” As Lehnsherr spoke, Charles noted the faintest of accents. “You remember how I told you about the people who could help you learn about your powers?”

“I can handle my powers just fine,” Pietro protested, and Charles sensed it was hardly the first time.

Lorna, too, looked skeptical. “Can’t I just learn from you, Papa? We have the same powers.”

Wanda, on the other hand, looked interested, even eager.

Erik looked exasperated.

Charles smiled, looking at each of the children in turn. “Don't you think that we can always learn more about something? I know I'm still learning things about my own mutation.”

“What can you do?” Wanda, openly curious.

_This._ He projected the word at everyone.

“Cool!” Pietro.

“So do you want me to work with you?”

Three enthusiastic yesses.

Erik looked relieved. “All right, you three. Go back to whatever you were doing. Charles and I need to work out the details.”

The children scampered off.

Once they were gone, Lehnsherr offered Charles a warm smile. “Thank you. Sometimes getting them to agree to anything is like pulling teeth from a rabid tiger.”

Charles grinned. “Sounds dangerous.”

“Exactly.”

Charles sipped at his tea. “So, to business?”

“We told the kids that's what we'd be doing.” Charles tried not to notice the lights dancing in Lehnsherr's eyes as he spoke.

“Right, then. We can offer two tutoring sessions a week at present. Would Mondays and Thursdays be acceptable?” Charles certainly hoped so; those were the only slots available.

“We'll make it work,” Lehnsherr answered. “Wanda needs help, help beyond what I can give. The public programs are worthless for someone with powers as strong and wild as hers, and we've been on your waiting list for more than a year. You're our last hope.”

“You realize we _are_ a public program,” Charles said.

“Publicly accessible,” Lehnsherr conceded, “but privately funded and independently run. No government interference.”

“True enough,” Charles allowed. “But that's why our resources are so limited. Hence the waiting list. And why we can only fund four tutors at present.”

“Including yourself?”

“Yes.”

“So will you be their tutor?”

“Initially, certainly. I will be the one who evaluates their needs, their strengths and weaknesses. If, after that, I feel that one of our other tutors would be a better fit, I will step back.” Charles smiled, a little wry. “Metaphorically, anyway.”

Lehnsherr smiled back. Damn but the man was gorgeous. But he was also a client, Charles reminded himself sternly.

Charles finished his tea. “I should be going. See you Monday?”

“Yes.” Lehnsherr followed him back to the door, floated him off the porch, but instead of putting him down on the lawn, he whisked him across the yard and out the gate, setting him down beside his car.

Lehnsherr closed the gate, looked over it at Charles as he had before.

“Thank you. That was marvellous.”

“My pleasure.” Was Charles imagining the slight flirtatious undertone?

“Until Monday, then.”

“Until Monday.”

** ~xXx~ **

[flightinflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame)  


Monday came, and Charles returned to the Lehnsherr home. The gate was closed, but hopefully not locked, as Erik made no appearance as Charles pulled himself from his car. Sighing, he retrieved his portable ramps and began setting them up.

The gate was indeed unlocked, so he returned the ramps to his lap and headed for the porch steps.

Once he was finally able to ring the bell, a slender woman with brown hair and keen dark eyes answered the door. “Mr. Xavier?”

“Charles.”

She smiled, lighting what might have been a somber face. “I'm Edie, Erik's mother. He was held up at work.” She stepped back to let him enter. “What will you be needing?”

“Just a place to meet with the kids. I'll be assessing their abilities today, so I'll need to meet with them one-on-one.”

“The living room,” Edie decided. “I'd normally suggest the kitchen, but I'm in the middle of cooking dinner.”

The living room was full of cozy furniture, including a couch that looked divine. “This will do nicely. If you could send one of them in.”

“Of course. Would you like something to drink?”

“Some tea would be lovely. Thank you.” Charles wheeled over to the couch, transferred on to it, sank back against the cushions with a contented sigh.

Lorna entered, eyed him warily, then her attention zeroed in on his wheelchair. “What's this,” she asked, pointing at it with a chubby finger.

“It's called a wheelchair,” he answered.

“What's it for?”

“I use it to get around.”

“Why?”

“My legs don't work.”

Now she turned her attention to his legs and asked, with the directness of a child, “Why not?”

“It was an accident, a long time ago.” It was actually more complicated than that, but the full truth wasn't a story for a seven-year-old.

“Do they hurt.” He could see in her eyes that she wanted to touch them.

He shook his head. “No. In fact, I can't feel them at all.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Charles gave his thigh a gentle poke in demonstration. “Now how about you show me what you can do with your powers.”

She glanced about, seeking a good source of metal.

“You can use the chair if you want.” He was sure Erik could repair any damage she might do.

Her eyes widened, and she smiled. Her green eyes closed, and she screwed up her face in concentration. The wheelchair shook, shuddered, rolled forward a few inches. Lorna opened her eyes again, grinning triumphantly.

“Wonderful. Now show me what else you can do.”

Pietro was next. He glared at Charles defiantly. “I don't need your help.”

“Your father thinks you do.”

Pietro looked unimpressed. “You can't make me.”

“Oh, I could. But I won't.”

Pietro eyed Charles, eyed the chair that Charles wasn’t sitting in. Charles didn't need to be a mind-reader to know what he was thinking.

_I can't make you learn, but I can stop you from running off._ Charles froze Pietro's body, just long enough to make his point.

Pietro's eyes went wide once Charles released him. “No way.”

“Way,” Charles said dryly. “Now let's talk about what you can do and how you can do it better.”

Wanda was the most eager, but also the most of a challenge. She didn't know how her powers worked or even exactly what they were. Sometimes she could make what she wanted to happen actually happen. Other times she would make the opposite happen. Still other times, things would simply go wrong.

“I just don't get it,” she moaned. She'd attempted to demonstrate a few minor things, and all of them had gone awry. The flashes of red energy that radiated from her fingers nearly set fire to the couch, and the toy she'd tried to make appear had crumbled to nothingness.

Charles suspected her powers had an element of probability manipulation, and he knew just who could help with that. “You'll learn,” he assured her. “Just be patient.”

She scowled. “I hate being patient.”

“We all do.”

The front door opened then, distracting her. Erik stepped inside, looking weary, his suit rumpled, his auburn hair tousled.

“Papa!” Wanda ran to him, wrapped her arms around his legs.

“Hey, sweetie.”

“Come say hi to Charles.” Wanda dragged her father over.

Erik gazed at him with tired eyes. “Hi.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Erik's hand rested on his daughter's shoulder, a gesture of easy affection. “How did it go? You must be nearly finished by now.”

“If you're not too tired, have a seat and I'll fill you in.”

Erik shed his suit jacket and tie, opened the first button of his dress shirt, sank onto the other end of the couch. “I'm listening.”

** ~xXx~ **

Erik mostly enjoyed his job. Engineering had proved to be a natural fit with his mutation, and he found he also loved the precision of it.

Today, though, hadn't been one of the days he enjoyed. He'd had to deal with resentful building inspectors, annoyed city planners, and a pissed-off architect, none of whom wanted to hear what he had to say. The building inspectors were angry because he'd spotted a flaw they had missed. The planners, because he had told them their redevelopment plan for downtown wasn't technically sound. The architect, for reasons similar to the planners.

So he wasn't in the best of moods when he walked in the door. Wanda's greeting helped considerably. Surprisingly, so did the presence of Charles Xavier. The man was sinfully good-looking, with those sparkling sapphire eyes, cherry-red lips, and tousled dark hair. Not that he would go down that road with his children's tutor. Still, he could look.

So he sank gratefully onto the couch at Xavier's invitation, listened as the man detailed what his children had been up to.

“Lorna's well ahead of where I was at her age,” Erik commented, “and I'm glad you showed Pietro what you can do. He thinks he can get away with anything because no one can catch him.”

“He's a handful,” Xavier agreed. “Wanda, on the other hand--”

“Sometimes it's hard to believe they're siblings, let alone twins,” Erik agreed. “Wanda's so serious, and she has my temper.”

“You have a temper?” Xavier sounded genuinely surprised.

“He does,” his ma said from the doorway. “In his case, what they say about redheads and tempers is true.”

“Ma,” he protested.

“You know it's true,” his ma replied, but the affection in her eyes kept the sting from her words. “Now go wash up for dinner, and get those hellions of yours to do the same. Charles, you're welcome to join us.”

“I don't want to impose.”

“Charles, my mother will be insulted if you don't stay.” Erik rose, collected his jacket and tie.

“In that case, I'll accept.” Xavier pulled his chair closer.

“Good,” his ma declared. “You go wash up, too. Erik will show you where.”

Erik watched as Charles moved back into his chair, enjoying the flex and play in the man's arms and shoulders and a glimpse of a really plush ass.

They ate at the dining room table, usually reserved for special occasions -- the kitchen table only sat four.

Charles kept up a lively stream of conversation, entertaining everyone, even restless Pietro. And when it was all over, Erik was genuinely sorry he had to leave.

He lowered Charles down both sets of steps, in a gesture that felt familiar, almost intimate. Charles grinned in delight as Erik skimmed his chair in a slow circle about the yard before lowering him to the sidewalk.

He followed Charles out the gate, stowed those slender ramps in the trunk of Charles’ car, watched as Charles pulled himself into the driver's seat and wrestled the wheelchair in behind. He knew he could have done it far more easily with his powers, but he knew Charles wouldn't appreciate such “help.” He knew it was only Charles’ fascination with being flown that allowed him to accept being lifted over the steps.

Charles met his gaze, smiled. “Until Thursday.”

“Until Thursday,” he echoed. He tried not to notice how gorgeous the other man really was.

Charles shut his door, drove away.

Erik watched him go, trying to scold his libido into simmering down. This could be bad.

Or, his traitorous body suggested, it could be very, very good.

** ~xXx~ **

Charles wasn't alone when he returned on Thursday. Erik looked over the gate to see Charles exiting his car, and a slender brown-haired woman already standing beside the passenger door, a white cane held in one hand. She smiled softly and lifted her head toward him. “Hello,” she called. “You must be Erik.”

He opened the gate and descended the steps. “I am.”

She extended a hand. “I'm Irene Adler. I work with Charles.”

He shook her hand as Charles wheeled around the car to join them. “You remember how I said I thought there was a probability component to Wanda's powers?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Irene's powers are also probability-based, though in a different way. So I thought Irene would be uniquely suited to help your daughter.”

“And I foresaw he was right.”

“Foresaw.” WTF?

“Yes,” Irene said serenely. “I'm a precognitive. And yes, I can help your daughter. All of the likely futures say so.”

“Shall we go in?” Charles said, gesturing at Erik, then at the steps. “If you would be so kind.”

With the barest flick of his wrist, Erik lifted Charles up the steps and across the yard, higher than he had before, nearly as high as his own head. Charles held tight, but he was grinning wildly. Irene trailed behind them, a bemused smile on her lips.

Wanda rushed to the foyer to meet them, practically launching herself at Charles. “Charles! Charles! I made it work! I made the doll come to me.”

“Really? How many times did you have to try?”

Her face fell. “At least a dozen.”

“But you still did it,” Charles assured her, giving her one of his electric smiles.

Wanda beamed, then noticed Irene. “Who are you?”

Irene smiled, and she pulled off her dark glasses to reveal clouded grey eyes. “My name is Irene, and I have a power a little like yours.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I see probabilities. You manipulate them.”

“Then can you help me?” Wanda asked eagerly, then she shot Charles an apologetic look. “Not that you don't,” she assured him.

Charles chuckled. “That's why I brought her here. She'll come once a week, just to meet with you.”

Lorna came into the room, launched herself at Charles much as her sister had, though with even less restraint. She scrambled up onto his lap without asking and threw her arms around his neck. Erik winced, hoping she wasn't hurting Charles. He'd have to speak to her later about climbing on people without asking.

Charles hugged her back. “Good to see you, love.” _And she didn't hurt me. She really can't._

Still, he needed to teach her this.

Charles looked about. “It would seem Pietro is having third thoughts about this arrangement.”

Erik sighed. “I'll find him. But I swear he's going to be the death of me.”

“He won't,” Irene said with a chuckle.

** ~xXx~ **

The lessons were going well, Charles thought. Lorna was blossoming, and Erik said her control was far better than his had been at the same age. Wanda was developing a modicum of control as they began to understand how her powers worked. And Pietro was learning precision in his speed and how to be still when necessary.

Erik Lehnsherr remained unreasonably handsome and unfairly easy to talk to. And he'd seen the interest on Erik's face, felt the prickles of attraction on the surface of the other man's mind. But Charles couldn't allow himself to go there.

Though the universe seemed to be conspiring against him in that regard. Twice more, Erik had been delayed at work, and Edie had roped him into dinner. Not that he really minded; it was just testing his resolve.

Then came the night of the storm. It had been overcast all day, threatening rain but never more than misting. Charles had hoped his luck might hold until he got home -- he really hated wheeling through puddles and mud and rain -- but as he was working with Lorna, he heard a massive crash of thunder followed by sheeting rain. Damn!

The lightning electrified Lorna -- pun most definitely intended. Her powers, like her father's, worked best at the magnetic end of the electromagnetic spectrum, but she could feel the electricity -- Erik said it felt like singing in his bones -- and Charles knew he'd lost her attention for the duration. She ran to the front window, pressed her chubby hands to the glass, green eyes alight.

Erik came into the room, his gaze zeroing in on his daughter. He went to the window and placed a hand beside hers. "Feels good, doesn't it, sweetie?"

"Yeah."

[Librata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librata)  


Erik glanced over at Charles. "Would you like to feel how it feels for us?"

"You'd let me do that?"

Erik nodded, tapped his temple. "Come on in."

Charles eased into the outer layers of Erik's mind and gasped. There were no words for the sensations that coursed through him, sensations beyond normal human ken. He could no more have explained the awareness of swirling magnetic and electrical energies, the ability to sense and identify metals on an atomic level, than he could have described what it was like to enter another's mind or explained the color blue to someone blind from birth. Or, for that matter, explained what it was like not to feel two-thirds of one's body.

After a dizzying minute, Charles withdrew.

Erik grinned at him. "Cool, isn't it?"

"That, my friend, is a wholly inadequate word."

Erik glanced back at the window and the sheeting rain. "I suggest you stay for dinner tonight. This will be murder to drive in."

"Indeed." Charles needed no persuading.

The rain continued unabated all through dinner and afterward, once the kids were settled for the night, Erik invited him to join him for a game of chess. "I remember you said you play."

"I do, though I'm woefully out of practice."

Erik chuckled. "I have three kids. I probably play less than you."

Rustiness notwithstanding, they were evenly matched. The rain continued, steady, heavy, as they played, and Erik retrieved a bottle of scotch from a high cupboard and poured them each a drink.

They debated as they played, finding that they lived on opposite sides of many issues. But while their arguments grew spirited, they remained somehow friendly, convivial.

Erik won the first game, though Charles hadn't made it easy. Erik rose to refresh their drinks -- the rain had yet to ease, blast it -- and when he returned Charles' tumbler, their fingers brushed.

[Ireliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireliss)  


Heat and awareness flooded through Charles.

Erik stared at the point of contact for a long moment, then he set both their glasses down with exaggerated care.

Charles could scarcely breathe.

Erik tilted Charles' chin upward and kissed him delicately.

This was a dream. It had to be.

Erik straightened, his eyes locking with Charles'. "We shouldn't," he said.

"No," Charles agreed. Then, "Ask me if I care right now."

"Do you?"

"Not a bit. So get down here and kiss me again." Before Erik could move, though, Charles put his hands on the man's trim hips and tugged him down onto his lap.

It was a bit awkward -- Erik was damned tall -- but they made it work. They kissed greedily, hungrily. Charles' hands roved over the broad planes of Erik's back, drinking in the quiescent strength in those muscles. Erik tasted damned good, like scotch and salt and something unique and indefinable.

After an endless few minutes, Erik pulled back. "I'm too heavy," he protested, then made a move to get up.

Charles stopped him. "Erik, you won't hurt me. You really can't."

"You're sure."

"Very," Charles said, a little dryly, but gently nonetheless. "Much as I might wish otherwise at the moment, I cannot feel that lovely arse on my legs."

Erik glanced down. "What can you feel?"

"Enough," Charles said, and he pulled Erik into another kiss. There would need to be more explanations, he knew, but what he said was true.

They kissed some more, until they were both breathless. "Let's take this to my bedroom," Erik said.

"Yes." He followed Erik into a spartanly-furnished master bedroom. A chair, a small table, a dresser, a pair of nightstands, a bed. A truly comfortable-looking bed. Erik swept the covers back with a flourish.

Charles approached the near side, locked his wheels, planted his fists on the mattress, and swung his body around. He lifted one foot onto the opposite knee to remove his shoe, then switched to remove the other. Erik was watching him intently, and Charles felt a bit self-conscious.

He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it.

Erik sank to his knees before him. "Did anyone ever tell you you're beautiful?"

Charles blushed. It wasn't that he thought he was unattractive, but beautiful was a bit much. He was too pale, too freckled, and he had a bit of a paunch because his abs didn't work.

"Beautiful," Erik repeated. His hands went to Charles' sides, a little above the waistband of his pants.

Charles covered Erik's hands with his own and moved them upward. "I can't feel that, love," he said gently.

Erik frowned. "But you said--"

"I said what I feel is enough. And it is. It just all happens to be on the upper third of my body.

"So what do I do?"

"Touch me. Kiss me. It all gets me there."

Erik looked thoughtful for a moment, and he brushed his thumbs over Charles' nipples. Yes! He gasped softly and shivered.

Erik grinned and continued to tease the small nubs. Erik nipped at his shoulder, scrubbed that ginger scruff over his skin. His breath was warm as it danced over Charles' neck, making Charles shudder harder.

Thus encouraged, Erik explored Charles' skin inch by inch. He nibbled delicately at the shell of Charles' ear, sucked at the lobe, brushed kisses over his cheeks and brow and jaw, nipped along the column of Charles' neck and onto his chest, laved Charles' nipples with his tongue. His hands roved over Charles' upper back and down his arms, lifted Charles' hands to his lips, sucked gently at his fingertips then at the skin of his inner wrists.

Charles trembled on the brink.

Erik returned his thumbs to Charles' nipples, circled them, stroked them.

Charles came with a soft, sharp cry, his upper body arching then slumping forward into Erik's arms.

Erik held him close then kissed him gently.

Charles drifted in a post-coital haze, only slowly returning to himself. But finally he was able to focus again, and he smiled at Erik. "Your turn," he said. "Strip."

Erik rose and peeled out of his clothes with swift efficiency.

"Bloody hell," Charles said, staring at Erik's absolutely massive cock as it sprang free of his underwear. "That's impressive. Now come here."

Standing, Erik was actually at a pretty good height for what Charles had in mind. He took hold of Erik's cock, feeling it twitch. He set his other hand on Erik's hip for balance, then he leant forward and swirled his tongue around the head of Erik's cock.

Erik moaned and buried his hands in Charles' hair.

The faint pain zeroed Charles in on the task at hand. His fingers circled the base of Erik's cock, reducing it to a manageable size, and he slid his lips down the shaft, pulled back, repeated, repeated.

"Stop teasing me." Erik's voice was a rough whisper with just a hint of an edge.

Charles applied himself in earnest until he had Erik on the edge, back arched, head thrown back, as Charles glanced upward. His tawny skin was flushed to a rose-peach, and sweat sheened his sculpted,abs and chest.

He felt Erik's balls begin to tighten, knew he was on the brink, and he pulled back, finishing him off with a few vigorous strokes of his hand.

Erik shot come all over Charles' chest, but Charles was too content to really care about the mess.

Erik slumped against Charles, forearms braced on his shoulders, said nothing for a long minute, then spoke softly, hoarse and breathy. "Those lips are as deadly as they looked."

After another long minute, Erik kissed Charles gently. "I'll get a towel in a minute. Just let me hold you for a bit first."

Charles rested his head against Erik's chest, drifted in a contented haze until Erik kissed the top of his head then got to his feet.

Charles watched him pad toward the _en suite_ bathroom, noting that the man had a nice arse to go with the chest and abs and that ridiculous cock.

After a minute, Erik returned and dropped to one knee in front of Charles and tenderly cleaned his chest and belly. Charles couldn't feel much of this but appreciated the care Erik showed.

When he was done, Erik let the towel drop to the floor beside him. "We shouldn't have done this," he said quietly.

"Probably not," Charles agreed.

"I can't jeopardize what my children have, especially now that they have everything they need."

"I would never--"

"I know you wouldn't," Erik assured him, "but I've no doubt that there would be people who won't be so generous in their assumptions. Sour-graping parents, mostly, who'll think my kids jumped the line because of our relationship."

Charles could prove otherwise, but he understood what Erik was saying, and he would respect his wishes, no matter how much his nerve endings sang with the afterglow of the best orgasm he'd had in ages. "One night only, then," he said.

"One night only," Erik agreed, "so let's make the most of the time we've got left."

** ~xXx~ **

Round two was all about slow, gentle exploration. They had this night, would have no other, so they would steal every moment they could.

Erik coaxed Charles to strip, despite Charles' initial protests that his lower body wasn't worth looking at. Years of paralysis had left him with scrawny legs and a paunchy abdomen.

"I just want to see you, touch you," Erik said, "all of you. I want memories to keep after tonight."

So Charles had stripped then propped himself against the headboard, watching as Erik explored his lower body with tender reverence.

Erik traced the contours of Charles' legs -- feet, ankles, calves, knees, thighs -- which looked all the more scrawny in Erik's long-fingered hands. Those hands ranged upward over Charles' hips and sides then downward over his belly to his cock.

Charles saw Erik's surprise when his cock stiffened in response. "It's a reflex, love. I can't actually feel it." Or do anything with it.

Erik traced the contours of Charles' cock, said, "I want to taste you," then bent to take Charles' cock into his mouth.

Charles had thought himself well beyond wishing the damage to his spinal cord undone, but for just a moment, seeing Erik sucking his cock, he ached to be able to feel it. But even so, seeing Erik with those pale-pink lips wrapped around the head of his cock was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen.

After a minute, Erik lifted his head and looked into Charles' eyes. "Could I ride you?"

Charles hesitated -- he seldom stayed hard for long. "I don't know if it will work," he said, then explained why. "I have drugs at home that would make it easier, but none with me."

Erik looked thoughtful, then determined. "Would a cock ring help?"

"Yes. Do you have one?"

"No. But I can make one." Erik glanced to his nightstand, and several ball bearings floated up from a dish filled with assorted small metal objects -- ball bearings, nuts, bolts, paper clips -- and circled lazily in the air. Erik smiled sheepishly. "My fidget toys."

"Perfect," Charles said.

The small spheres stretched and melted together, coalescing into a circlet. Erik stroked Charles' cock a few times, rousing it anew, then slid the ring on and adjusted the fit.

He crooked a finger, and the nightstand drawer unlocked and eased open to reveal, among other things, a handful of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a metal dildo nearly as impressively-sized as Erik himself.

"It shouldn't take me long to get ready," Erik said, flushing just a little.

"Let me," Charles said.

The bottle of lube lifted by a metal ring around its neck and sailed into Charles' hand. Erik stretched out beside Charles, head by his feet, arse invitingly on display.

It really was a splendid arse, firm and dusted with tawny freckles and just a hint of ginger peach fuzz. Charles stroked it lightly, traced a circle around Erik's hole.

"Don't tease me," Erik said, but without heat.

Charles lubed up a couple of fingers, then he pressed one against Erik's hole. It slid in easily, and Erik groaned approvingly.

Erik was right -- it didn't take Charles long to get him prepped, his muscles clearly accustomed to this, relaxing easily until Charles was spreading three fingers inside him, occasionally nudging his prostate.

Erik was shuddering under his touch, moaning softly, arching against Charles' fingers. "Now," he pled. "Need you now."

"All right." Charles eased his fingers from.Erik's arse.  
Erik rose to his knees, the long lines of his body limned in soft lamplight, his well-defined muscles a study in chiaroscuro.

"G-d, you're beautiful," Charles exclaimed softly.

"You're one to talk."

Charles blushed. He still didn't think he was beautiful.

"You are," Erik insisted. He twisted that magnificent body and kissed Charles, gentle but thorough. Then he turned and straddled Charles' hips, his knees pressing Charles' sides just above where sensation faded.

He floated a condom packet out of the drawer and ripped it open with his powers, letting the condom drop onto his outstretched hand. He gripped Charles' penis with his other hand, rolled the condom on, then lined it up with his hole and sank slowly onto it, letting out little moans as he descended. "G-d, you feel good," he said once he was fully seated on Charles' cock. Then he flushed. "I didn't mean-- I know you can't--"

"It's all right." And it was.

"I still wish you could feel it."

"I know."

Erik's eyes widened in dawning realization. "Come into my mind. Feel what I feel."

No one had ever offered that, nor had Charles ever dared to ask. It was an opportunity he was reluctant to turn down. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Charles eased into Erik's mind, not too deep, but deeper than he'd gone earlier. _This okay?_

_"Yes. But I need to move._ Even Erik's mental voice was breathless as he lifted his body up then plunged down onto Charles' cock again.

"Oh, g-d!" The sheer sensation was near-overwhelming. Charles' memories of this kind of sex were hazy, distant, after more than a decade of paralysis.

"I've never been called a god before," Erik quipped, then he lifted up, plunged down again, and neither of them could think for a minute.

"Even though you're hung like one," Charles teased.

"Flattery will get you everywhere. " Erik rose, descended, repeated, establishing a steady rhythm that left them both breathless and near-mindless. Charles gave himself over to the shared sensations, staring up at Erik's rangy body above him, outlined by soft lamplight and stormshadow.

He gripped Erik's thighs, now damp with sweat, feeling the flex and play of lean muscle under his hands as he felt the movement through Erik's mind. A heady combination.

They soared together in shared ecstasy until Charles felt Erik neared the edge. He took hold of Erik's cock -- he damned near needed both hands -- and stroked it, a little rough, then gasped as he felt it through their connection.

And then Erik was coming, hard and fast, and Charles nearly blacked out from the sensation.

Erik slumped, eyes closing, all-but-motionless for ling minutes as the aftershocks of pleasure rolled through his mind and body. At last, though, he lifted himself off Charles and flopped down beside him with a contented groan. The cock ring flowed off of Charles' penis, re-forming into a sphere and clinking down upon the nightstand.

"Damn," Erik said.

"Yeah."

"I'll get something to clean us off in a minute."

Erik's post-coital haze twined with his own, and Charles took a long minute to savor the dual sensations before he reluctantly withdrew back into his own mind, losing himself in his racing thoughts.

Could he walk away from this, so to speak? It was the most prudent course, yes, but was it the only one?

Erik dragged himself from the bed, returned and cleaned them both with gentle efficiency. "You okay?" he asked. "You look a million miles away."

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Us."

"Is there an us?"

"I think there could be."

"We said 'one night only.'"

"Not sure I can hold to that."

"Me neither," Erik admitted.

"It's late. Let's sleep on it."

"All right," Erik said. He set the damp towel aside, kissed Charles, then flopped down beside him.

Charles maneuvered himself onto his side, facing Erik, and wrapped an arm round the other man's torso.

"Mmn, feels good." Erik used his powers to douse the light."

It did feel good. Charles closed his eyes and let his mind and body drift toward sleep.

** ~xXx~ **

Erik woke just before dawn to find the rain had stopped and pale sunlight was just beginning to color the sky outside. Charles still slept contentedly beside him, and Erik hated to disturb him, though he had no real choice.

He shook Charles' shoulder gently, then a little harder, until those sapphire eyes blinked open, color muted in the wan light.

"Good morning," Erik said.

Charles squinted at the window. "This is morning?"

"The kids will start waking up in half an hour. I thought it might be good if we were both dressed first."

"Indeed." Charles pushed himself to a sitting position then shoved his legs toward the edge of the bed. "What did I do with my clothes? Could I get some light here?" His voice was rough with sleep and a bit grouchy.

Erik used his powers to turn on the bedside lamp.

Blue eyes blinked in the sudden brightness. "Better," Charles declared.

"So what do we tell the kids about why you're still here?"

"I can't just sneak out before they wake up?"

"You can try," Erik said dryly. "It's very hard to sneak past Pietro."

Charles yawned, stretched, sighed. "We need to talk anyway."

"We do," Erik agreed.

Charles bent and retrieved his clothes. "Any thoughts?"

"Beyond knowing I want you in my life in whatever form we can manage? Even if that's nothing more than as my children's tutor and an occasional chess companion."

"I think we can manage more than that, love." Charles threaded his legs into his underwear and his pants, then he lay back on the bed and rolled back and forth to pull them both up over his ass. His really plush ass.

Erik tamped his libido down. "How?"

"For a start, I'll need to transfer your kids to another tutor, probably Irene since they know her already."

"Exit Charles the tutor; enter Charles the boyfriend?"  
Erik pulled on fresh underwear, a fresh t-shirt, and his jeans from the day before.

"Essentially, yes." Charles eyed his badly-wrinkled shirt and sighed.

Erik tossed him a t-shirt. "What if someone raises a stink?"

"They can try. I can prove how long you were on the waiting list." Charles slipped into the t-shirt, then pulled himself into his chair.

"Sounds like a plan, then." Erik closed the distance between them, kissed Charles softly.

But he cut the kiss short when he heard stirring down the hall. "Brace yourself," he said. "The kids are awake."

Charles gave his ass a quick squeeze. "To be continued."

To be continued. Erik liked the sound of that.


End file.
